Life's a Dream
by Devil of My Family
Summary: Kurt's been living the dream for 50 years, watching his son grow up as he and Blaine grow old. But then he's woken up, only to be told that the life he's lived is not real and he's just been asleep for a few hours. Can Blaine convince his husband that the reality can be as good as any dream?
1. I Dreamed a Dream

_**Hello and welcome! **_

**Title: Life's a Dream  
Author: Me  
Number of Chapters: 3  
Pairings: Klaine  
**

**Warnings: Kidnapping **

**Important author's note!: This story was inspired by the movie Inception. But ONLY inspired. I could not for the life of me try to understand all the rules and technicalities so I'm not using them either. Or the plot. Keep that in mind as you read, okay?  
**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

_I dreamed a dream in time gone by  
When hope was high and life worth living  
I dreamed that love would never die  
I dreamed that God would be forgiving _

* * *

_"FREEZE! Put your hands where I can see them!" _

_"You're too late," the tall, blond man said as he was forced to he knees by agent Peterson. "You're too late." _

_The grin on the man's face made Peterson grimace. "Find Hummel." _

_"Hummel-Anderson," the man said mockingly. "Not just Hummel anymore, not ever."_

_"The victim's alive!" someone yelled then. Peterson sighed in relief. "Appears to be under the effects of a sedati... Oh. God damn." _

_"What?" _

_"He's asleep, chief. They're in his dream." _

_"Fuck. Wake him up. Do it gently." _

_"Oh, I wouldn't do that," the blond said. He was still eerily calm, barely showing emotion even though he'd been caught. _

_"And why is that?" _

_"He's not just asleep. We put him in a limbo." _

_Shit. _

_Shit, shit, shit, shit. _

_"How long has been asleep? HOW LONG?!" _

_"Uh... I don't know. Maybe 3 hours." _

_"God, shit, fucking... DAMN IT! DON'T WAKE HIM UP! DON..." _

_A piercing scream shook the building._

* * *

"_I'm at the airport but all flights to New York have been cancelled_."

"It's the snow," Blaine said hoarsely, rubbing his eyes. "The trains are at a standstill, too. I checked."

"_I'll get there. I promise, okay? I'll drive if I have to._"

How Burt could sound so calm was an absolute mystery to Blaine. His own heart had been beating painfully hard against his chest for hours and hours now and he had only managed a few moments of sleep on the hard benches of the station where he was waiting for news.

"Burt, I..."

"_You listen to me, Blaine. Kurt's fine. The police will bring him home to you, you just have to have faith. Kurt's going to need you more than ever when they bring him back so you can't lose it now. Okay?_"

Burt's tone was so sure. It was so sure it sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself but Blaine wanted to believe it so bad and tried to let it comfort him.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'll... I'll see you soon."

"_I'll see you both soon_," Burt said. "_Let me know if they tell you anything_."

"I will," Blaine promised. "Bye."

He should call Rachel, Blaine realized as soon as he hung up. And Santana. And everyone who had tried to reach him while he had been at the station. But his heart broke even at the thought of having to tell them what he had had to tell Burt so he put his phone in his pocket and promised himself he'd do it later.

He was sipping his fourth coffee in the last two hours, trying to swallow it through the lump in his throat. He couldn't look at the clock, didn't want to know how many hours Kurt had been missing because he knew every minute the chances of finding him got worse. No one tried to stop him as he walked around the missing persons unit of the FBI building , unable to sit still. Whether it was the unseasonably heavy snowstorm or something else that was keeping everyone busy, Blaine didn't care, just as long no one asked him to leave. He couldn't bare to go back into their cold, empty apartment alone, without knowing anything.

The last 47 hours and 19 minutes had been the worst of his life.

_"Kurt, where the hell are you? Isabelle said you left over two hours ago! Call me back. Please." _

_"I'm really getting worried, the weather's getting worse. Where are you?" _

_"Kurt, it's been over three hours, please, call me back!" _

_"I promise I won't be mad, just... call me back. Come home!" _

_"The police called me... Kurt, I am serious, this is not funny! Where the hell are you?!" _

_"Kurt... please come home. Please, be okay. Please." _

He hadn't registered much of what the police told him over the phone, just that they were confident Kurt was still alive. Who and why didn't matter to Blaine, he only wanted Kurt returned to his arms, safe and sound.

He kept going over the details of the morning before Kurt left for work. He had still been asleep but had woken up briefly when Kurt had come to give him a small kiss before leaving. "Enjoy your day off, lazy ass," he had chuckled. "I love you."

Blaine wished he could remember if he had said it back.

"Mr. Hummel-Anderson?"

He stopped on his tracks, looking up from the floor he had be staring at to see a woman in her late 30s. "Yes? Oh God, did you find him? Did you find Kurt?"

The woman sighed. "Mr. Hummel-Anderson..."

"Blaine."

"Blaine... Why don't you come with me?"

Something icy dropped into Blaine's stomach, preventing him from taking a step. "He's... He's alive, right? Please, please tell me he's alive."

"We found him. And yes, he's alive," the woman confirmed and such relief washed over Blaine it almost knocked him over. "But that's pretty much the only good news I can give you right now."

"What do you mean?"

"We should go talk somewhere private."

"I want to see him."

"I'm afraid I must insist we talk first," the woman said.

The authority in her voice was unmistakable so Blaine followed her to a small room in the corner of the station. She motioned him to sit down but Blaine remained standing and thankfully she seemed to understand.

"My name is Helen Peterson. I led the group that found the location of your husband," she began. Her tone was clearly calculated. "As I'm sure they told you over the phone, we were fairly certain of who was behind the kidnapping for at least 6 different people have been taken at the same place."

"I... I didn't..."

"That's alright," Peterson said. "I'm not going to waste your time by going over all the details but I need you to understand that the situation with Kurt is very complicated right now."

Blaine bit his lower lip. "Complicated how?"

Peterson sighed again. "Blaine, are you aware of what of what dream stealing is?"

"I..." Blaine began, frowning. "Yeah, I've heard the term. Why? What's that got to do with Kurt?"

"The people that took your husband never kidnap just random people. We believed they took Kurt to force him into a shared dream and steal information about the management level of Vogue. That's where he works, right?"

"Yes," Blaine said. "What do you mean, believ_ed_? That's... not why they took him?"

"This is where things get very complicated," Peterson said. "We had hoped to find him before they even entered his dreams. We were too late, though."

"So they got into his dreams? But Kurt can't be held responsible of whatever they found out, I mean..."

Peterson held up her hand to silence Blaine. "They didn't just get into his dreams. They put him in a limbo."

Blaine blinked. "A... limbo?"

"It's the deepest kind of dream anyone can be forced into. It's possible for a person to literally create worlds there and an untrained mind would never be aware that it isn't real." Peterson paused, clearly to let Blaine take in what she had said. When she continued, her words sounded more calculated. "Of the 14 people this organization has kidnapped, 3 have been put into limbo before your husband. Only one of them was woken up."

"Why?"

"Because it became clear after we woke up the first one that waking the victims up might not be in their best interest."

His head swimming, Blaine finally sat down. "So... so Kurt's still asleep?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," Peterson repeated. "And I have to apologize. It's completely my fault. I should have known when they said he's been given sedatives..." She took a deep breath. "My colleague woke Kurt up because he was unaware he was not just asleep."

"And why is that not in his best interest?"

"The mind moves faster in dreams. The deeper the dream, the faster the mind moves which means that even just five minutes of sleep may feel like an hour in a normal dream. So while Kurt had only been asleep for less than three hours, in the limbo reality that time has felt like decades."

Blaine's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "D... decades?"

"50 years, give or take a few."

"Oh my God," Blaine gasped out. "Oh... my God."

"You know how you're not always aware of what is real after you've just woken up from a very vivid dream?" Peterson asked in an attempt to make all of this easier to understand.

"Yeah."

"If Kurt had been just a victim of normal dream stealing, it'd be easy for him to remember what is reality because that's how the human mind works. But in the limbo, he's been able to create his life from his own memories instead of someone designing the dream for him so his mind doesn't register the mistakes in the dream the same way."

"So he still thinks it's real?" Blaine clarified. "The dream?"

"Yes. His mind is having a very hard time coping so he has convinced himself that he's asleep now, that this is the dream world."

"And you can't convince him otherwise?"

"We've tried all the normal, every day methods like pinching and knocking him over but nothing has worked so far. There are professionals with him now but even if he does accept this as reality, his mind might still long for the limbo because that's where his mind thinks he's lived most of his life," Peterson explained.

Blaine felt as if his stomach was turning up side down. He leaned back on his chair and put a hand through his hair, tears stinging in his eyes.

"When can I see him?" he asked.

"Soon. But you have to understand, unless he tells us, we'll have no way of knowing what his life in the dream was like. We don't know who his subconsciousness brought there to occupy the dream with him and if he's literally... well, dreamed up new people." Blaine nodded, trying to convince Peterson that he understood even though he couldn't honestly say that he did. "Blaine, we have no way of knowing what his relationship was like with you in the limbo. Or if you were even alive."

A single tear fell on Blaine's cheek. "He might not remember me?"

"That's not exactly how it works. There are a lot of details that would take all afternoon for me to explain but the bottom line is that he does, indeed, remember you, on some level at least. His mind is not the same, though. It might never recover to be exactly the same as it was before. But you are the key for him to recover at all. He and other people he holds the strongest emotional bond with."

Peterson talked softly, trying to make the difficult situation as simple as possible for Blaine. Blaine knew already that he wouldn't be able to process everything right there and then, if ever. All he knew was that he needed to see Kurt, had to know he was okay, and somehow pull him back into the life that was real for both of them.

"Can I see him now?" he asked again. He was trying to keep his over-floating emotions in check but his knuckles had literally turned white from gripping the arms of the chair he was sitting on.

"Do you think you can handle it?"

"I have to be able to handle it," Blaine said. "For him."

"Well, alright then," Peterson said, standing up. "Come with me."

The time it took for Peterson to take Blaine to the other corner of the floor felt a lot longer than the actual five minutes it did take. At the moment before she opened the door behind which Kurt was, the just under 48 hours his husband had been missing stretched into those 50 years that Kurt thought had gone by. An overpowering need to just push pass the authoritative woman almost caused Blaine to do exactly that, but he managed to control himself.

A man in a white coat came to meet Peterson at the doorway and the two of them exchanged a few, quiet words before the man nodded and left without sparing Blaine even a glance. Peterson motioned Blaine to remain out of sight and then opened the door a little further.

"Hello, Kurt. Do you remember me?" Kurt didn't answer Peterson's question vocally but apparently he nodded because she continued with: "Good. I've got someone here to visit you." Another pause. "Your husband."

It was one of the most bitter-sweetly best moments of Blaine's life when he heard: "Blaine?"

And he never had to push through the door because the next thing he knew, Kurt was right in front of him, looking bewildered, delighted, shocked and confused all at the same time.

"...hey."

A quiet sob escaped Kurt's mouth as he put his hands on Blaine's cheeks. It was a relief to see there were no physical signs of abuse on him but as he leaned closer, Blaine could see the distant look in his eyes, like he wasn't quite in the moment. The smile that appeared on his face seemed almost vacant.

"You are so..." Kurt started and it took him a couple of small moments to blurt out: "...young." He ran his fingers through Blaine's hair, mumbling: "What a nice dream," under his breath with that vacant smile on his face that faded in a blink as he suddenly took a grip of Blaine's shoulders, bringing him closer so that their faces were only inches apart. "Blaine, it's gray here. Everything is gray! I don't understand, they say it's real. But it can't be. It can't be. It can't."

Blaine swallowed air. "Kurt..."

"I don't know what is happening but I have to wake up. I'm sure I have over-slept. It's Anna's birthday! We gotta go give her her present."

It broke Blaine's heart to see the pure horror on Kurt's face when he asked: "Who's Anna?"

"No," he whispered, shaking his head. "Not you, too. No, this is MY dream. You're MY husband, you have to know Anna." He took a step back from Blaine, bumping into the wall behind him. "I have to wake up. I have to wake UP! It's too GRAY in here! Why is it so GRAY?!"

There was literally nothing gray around them. The walls around were the color of deep brown and the floor was made of wood. Even New York was slowly being covered by a thick layer of white snow.

"Kurt... Kurt!" Blaine said loudly through her husband's quiet murmuring. "Just tell me who Anna is. Tell me," he encouraged.

"She's our grandchild!" Kurt nearly screamed. "She's Aiden's daughter! Our Aiden's!"

"Our Aiden's?" Blaine repeated thickly. "We have a son?"

"Don't encourage him," Peterson said suddenly. "Talking about it will just make it more real in his head."

"So what should I do?"

"Tell him the truth."

It felt like the cruelest thing he could possibly do but as Kurt slid down the wall to a hunched position on the floor, Blaine knew he had to get through to him somehow. So he knelt down in front of his husband and hooked his finger under his chin, prompting him to look up. "Kurt, we don't have a son."

"Of course we do!"

"No," Blaine said, shaking his head. "No, my love, we don't. Not yet. We've talked about adopt..."

"What did you call me?"

In that second, Kurt's eyes seemed to flash with something that made him just slightly more coherent.

"My love," Blaine said again, causing Kurt to gasp.

"Oh, my God," he whimpered, looking years younger than what he really was. "Blaine?"

"Yes," Blaine choked out because it was the first time that he he saw real recognition on Kurt's face. "Yes, it's me."

Kurt's breathing was coming up in short gasps as he muttered: "The... the subway station. I left work and... I was gonna call you. But then..."

"Hey, hey. It's okay... It's okay..." Blaine said, gathering Kurt into a hug before he got himself too worked up. "It's okay. You're safe now. You're safe."

"No, no..." Kurt sobbed. "Aiden... Aiden, he's still... He's still there, he's waiting for me. For us... And..."

"Kurt, what does Aiden look like?"

Both Kurt and Blaine looked up to Peterson, whose posture was straight and her body language oozed professionalism but her expression spoke of much deeper emotions.

"What?"

"Aiden. What does he look like?" she asked again. "Think. Does he look like anyone else you know?"

Kurt opened his mouth to answer but then he stopped abruptly and he almost gagged as he all but collapsed into Blaine's arms.

"Kurt...? Kurt, what is it, wh...?"

"Finn," Kurt said, so quietly Blaine could barely hear it. "Finn, he looks exactly like Finn."

"Oh, Kurt..." Blaine hugged Kurt closer, unable to hold back his own tears as his husband started to sob. "I've got you. I've got you, my love."

In that moment, the rest of the world melted away and the two of them stayed in that embrace for a time neither could remember.

* * *

_**"Daddy! Daddy, look at me!" **_

_**Aiden's laughter echoes in the air, mixing with the music, as he jumps and twirls in the backyard. **_

_**Kurt smiles. "Oh, you're so talented!" he praises.**_

_**"I'm going to be a ballet dancer!" the 5-year old announces. **_

_**"Of course you are." Kurt's smile widens when Blaine's arms wrap around his waist. "You will be the best ballet dancer in the world!"**_

_**Aiden squeals while he makes a pirouette. **_

_**"He's just like you," Kurt says. "Full of energy. All the time."**_

_**"Oh, but darling, you like that I am full of energy all the time." **_

_**"I didn't say that I didn't."**_

_**The mattress is soft as Kurt falls back onto it, pulling Blaine onto him.**_

* * *

"I want to go home."

"We'll let you go soon but there are a few things we need to discuss," Peterson said. Kurt sniffed and tried to curl up to be as small as possible as Blaine held him protectively.

"Can't we please do this later?" he begged.

"Your husband has gone through a very traumatic experience, Mr. Hummel-Anderson. We cannot simply allow you to leave before..."

"A traumatic experience?" Kurt's voice was a little hysterical as he interrupted the man in the white coat Blaine had seen before. "I just found out the life I've lived for the last 51 years was a dream and that my child does not exist. I'm 24 but the last time I looked into a mirror I was 75. I am sorry but traumatic doesn't even begin to cover it."

"Enough, Harris," Peterson said to cut her colleague off before he had a chance to comment. "Kurt, I will not even attempt to understand what you're going through right now. But trust me when I say that we're thinking only about what's best for you right now."

Kurt took a shaky breath and nodded just barely. Blaine rubbed circles on his back, hoping more than anything that they could just hide from the world in their apartment and stay in bed for three days.

"Something you said, Blaine, must have triggered Kurt to snap out of the limbo completely," Peterson said. "Considering we had little hope that'd ever happen, that's more than a little remarkable. So we're just trying to figure out how you managed to convince Kurt that this is the reality in less than five minutes when a trained professional could not do it in 10 hours."

"Wait, you had him here for 10 hours? And didn't tell me?!"

Kurt winced a little at Blaine's harsh tone.

"It was necessary," was the only explanation Peterson offered.

"Necessary?! How could you...?"

"Blaine..." Kurt whispered pleadingly. Blaine snapped his mouth shut and took a deep breath, tightening his hold around Kurt's waist. Kurt's voice was tiny when he said: "My love."

"I'm sorry?"

"Blaine called me 'my love'," Kurt said a little louder. "I don't like petnames but 'my love' was always special to us."

"The dream me didn't call you that?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head. "He called me darling."

For a brief moment, his eyes went misty but he blinked and the moment was gone. He just looked sad and tired now and he was a breath short of begging when he said, again: "I want to go home."

"We're done here," Blaine decided then. "Just look at him, you can't..."

Everyone jumped when Blaine's phone started ringing in his pocket. He glanced at Kurt before taking it out of his pocket to see BURT flashing on screen.

"Dad?" Kurt gasped, his eyes also on the screen. "Oh, my God..."

"I promised to call him. Shit, he's gonna kill me..."

"He's alive."

Blaine's heart stopped. "Of course he's alive." He offered the phone to Kurt who took it with shaking hands.

"I... Oh, God. Dad?"

Blaine only heard Burt's voice as a quiet mumble but the emotions were so clear in it anyway. Kurt kept repeating 'Dad, dad, dad...' under his breath, his eyes hidden behind his hand until he suddenly tensed and almost screamed out: "NO!"

"Kurt? Kurt, what is it?"

"No, no, no, Dad, please don't go, please, just keep talking...! What? A speaker... speaker phone...?"

Kurt turned to look at Blaine, frowning, but didn't fight when Blaine gently took the phone back from him. He hit the speaker button, greeting Burt with a quiet: "Hey."

"_What the hell is going on?_" was Burt's less than polite reply.

"They found Kurt," Blaine said, stating the obvious.

"_What's happened to him?_"

"I'll explain when you come here, okay? Right now we just really want to go home," Blaine said. The adrenaline in his body was slowly fading and he had a sinking feeling that going home would not be the end of anything.

"_I finally booked a flight. I'll be there tomorrow morning._"

"That's great, Burt."

"You're coming here?"

It took a few seconds before Burt answered with: "_Of course, kid._"

As Kurt closed his eyes for a second and the tiniest of tiny smiles appeared on his face, Blaine realized something that made his heart feel heavy. He watched as hope, confusion, wonder, grief, longing and happiness flickered so plainly in Kurt's eyes as he, after a minute of assurances and promises, said 'yeah' when Burt said "_I'll see you tomorrow._"

Doctor Harris was the first to speak after the phone call ended: "So you father was dead in the limbo?"

Blaine wanted to punch him.

"Yes."

"How did he die?"

Kurt swallowed. "I don't know. He was just... dead."

Harris nodded slowly and was just about to ask something else when Peterson interrupted him. "Okay. We're done."

"But..."

"We're done, Harris. We know enough for now." She stood up. "You two can wait here. I'll arrange someone to give you a ride home."

"Thank you," Blaine replied quietly.

"Here's a list of people you can call if you need anything," Peterson continued and handed Blaine a sheet of paper with at least 20 phone numbers, from therapists to lawyers. "I am going to be honest with you, this is not over. Far from it. You are facing a long road of recovery and my best advice to you is to not shy away from the people who are trying to help." Kurt nodded. "I firmly suggest that you start seeing one of the people who's name is on the list. They are highly trained professionals on this field."

Kurt nodded again but Blaine knew him and Peterson had not convinced him to talk to anybody he didn't know.

"Best of luck to you," Peterson said and it sounded like she really meant it. Then she ushered Harris out the door and left the two men alone in the silence.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt suddenly sobbed out. "I'm so sorry, Blaine, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"No, hey, no... Kurt. This is not your fault. Okay? None of this is your fault," Blaine whispered. He tried to keep himself from shaking as he pressed Kurt against his chest. "We're going home. It's all going to be okay."

It's all going to be okay.

* * *

_I had a dream that life would be  
So different from this hell I'm living  
So different now from what it seemed  
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed_

* * *

**I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miserables (English Lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer, French libretto by Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel**


	2. Dream a Little Dream of Me

**_Hello and Welcome _**

**Title: Life's a Dream  
Author: Me  
Total number of chapters: 3  
Parings: Klaine  
Characters: Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, Burt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Female OC, Male OC**

**Warnings: Kidnapping ****  
**

**Enjoy chapter 2!**

* * *

_Stars shining bright above you_  
_Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you_  
_Birds singin' in the sycamore tree_  
_Dream a little dream of me_

* * *

Kurt didn't say anything on the way home.

He didn't say anything when they stepped into the apartment.

He didn't say anything as he sat down on the couch he had picked out not two weeks ago and looked around with somewhat scared curiosity, as if he was a guest in a house where he was not allowed to touch anything.

Blaine didn't know what to do.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, partly because he was and partly because the silence was just too much.

"Sure," Kurt answered quietly, his eyes fixed on a photo on the wall. It wasn't their official wedding picture but the quick shot Santana had taken with her iPod during their first dance had turned out better than any taken with a professional camera. "June 15, 2015."

"...hmm?"

"That's our wedding day. Right?"

"It is, yes," Blaine said.

"And the song... Our song, the one we danced to..."

"Come What May."

"Yes," Kurt breathed out. He sounded almost relieved. "Yes, Come What May. From Moulin Rouge." His eyes were misty with tears as he turned to look at Blaine. "We were watching Moulin Rouge when I realized I was never going to get over you."

He had told this story before but Blaine didn't say anything about it, just smiled a little as he sat down next to Kurt on the couch.

"We didn't have a song in the dream," Kurt said.

"No?"

"No. We were just... married. With... with..." Kurt's voice got caught in his throat and he shook his head, sniffing. "Am I just supposed to forget him?"

"Aiden?"

Kurt nodded. "I'm sorry. I - I guess I'm not supposed to talk about him. He wasn't even... I mean, he wasn't even real." Kurt's voice cracked at the last word a tear fell on his cheek that he wiped off. "I'm sor..."

"Stop saying that," Blaine cut in, maybe a little more harshly than he had intended. "Kurt, you can talk to me about anything you want. Aiden was... is... real to you. Real and important. You don't have to forget him."

Kurt sighed shakily, his gaze drifting to a picture of Finn. "It'd be so much easier if I could," he admitted. "I feel like... like I lost him. We didn't even live here and I still expect to see him come running from his room at any moment. It's like he died." And he added 'again', so quietly Blaine could barely hear it.

What was he supposed to say to that?

'Don't worry, Kurt, we can have _a new _baby.'

'Don't worry, Kurt, we can have _a real _baby.'

'Don't worry, Kurt, we can have a new, real baby that we'll both love, cherish and remember and who doesn't resemble your dead brother who died five years ago.'

"You mentioned a grandchild," he said instead, not sure if that's the kind of encouragement Peterson had advised against.

"Anna," Kurt replied quietly. "Like in Frozen," he added with a smile. Then he blinked, a few more tears leaking out and said: "I'm sorry, I..."

"Kurt, you have got to stop apologizing. For any of this," Blaine told him right away. He took Kurt's hand into his and squeezed it. "You are my husband, the love of my life and I never want you to be sorry for speaking about how you feel. Do you... do you remember what we promised on our wedding day? What we said in our vows?"

Kurt let out a quiet sob. "Whatever happens, we're in it together," he said.

"Yes. And I meant that. I meant it then and I still mean it now. So don't you hold anything back because you think you're not 'supposed' to do something or say something. If you feel like you want to talk, then you talk. I'll be here."

They looked at each other for a long moment before Kurt all of a sudden leaned forward to place a kiss right on Blaine's lips. He lingered, waiting for Blaine to respond, which does eventually, slowly, keeping the kiss sweet and loving, much like some of the first kisses they ever had.

"Some things don't change in dreams," he mumbled when they pulled apart.

A drop of warm fell into Blaine's stomach. "I... I'll fix us some dinner."

Kurt's smile was small but genuine.

* * *

_**"Oh, OH! Blaine... Blaine, oh, Blaine...!" **_

_**"I'm taking you to stars, darling." **_

_**Kurt giggles, can't hold it back even though it feels childish to giggle when your husband is currently fucking you against the mattress... **_

_**...or the cold tile wall of the shower, yes, this is nice, too. **_

_**"We're parents, Blaine. Parents." **_

_**"He can't hear. No one can hear. We're alone, darling, don't worry." **_

_**The shower is perfect, like warm summer rain on Kurt's skin and he can smell the fresh cut grass and flowers that have just started blooming...**_

* * *

That night, Blaine tried his best to stay awake until Kurt had fallen asleep but the exhaustion of the last few days caught up with him quicker than he had hoped and he found himself snapping awake on the couch to the sound of the doorbell ringing. As Kurt got up to answer it, he wondered if his husband had slept at all.

"Dad!"

"Oh, Kurt...!"

Blaine let them have their moment in privacy. He rubbed his eyes, feeling heavy and achy all over but managed a smile when Kurt and Burt eventually make it to the living room.

"Hey, Burt."

"Hey, kid," Burt replied and would have probably moved to give Blaine a hug if Kurt had let go of his arm. "I'm not going anywhere, buddy," he assured his son who responded with a some sort of a half-shrug, half-nod and still didn't let go. "What the hell did those bastards do to you?"

Kurt gave Blaine a begging look of 'I can't'. Blaine nodded ever so slightly, sighing, and asked: "Burt, do you know what dream stealing is?"

He kept his explanation as brief as possible, for both Kurt's sake and his own. By the time he finished, Burt was holding his son as if he wasn't a 24 year old man but a scared 10 year old.

"Did they catch those sons of bitches?" he asked, his voice low.

"They did."

"Good. When they take them to court, I'll...

"Court?" Kurt interrupted his dad. "I have to testify?

Burt glanced at Blaine. "Did they say anything?"

"No. Just that they'd keep in touch."

"I can't testify," Kurt said, terrified. "I can't.

"Kurt, these people must be brought to justice..."

"There's nothing that can be done that'll change what happened!" Kurt yelled. "They forced me into a life that wasn't real and let me live there for decades! I spent hours being told I was crazy for thinking everything I had built in the last 50 years was the reality when it was not! I question all the little details I remember from this life because half the time I don't know if it really did happen or not!" He was breathing hard and his eyes were glazing up in that same way Blaine had seen at the FBI station.

"...Kurt..."

"They took away my baby!" Kurt screamed. "They took him away and he's waiting, Blaine, he's waiting, we have to go back, he's all alone, he's just a baby... Blaine, we have to go back to Aiden. We have to go back. We have to go back, we have to go back..."

"Kurt!"

Blaine cry was enough to make Kurt stop but his eyes did not clear up. His arms dropped to his sides as if he had simply forgotten Burt was even there and his expression was scared as Blaine crossed the short distance between them.

"Look at me," Blaine prompted gently when Kurt lowered his head to look at the floor. "Look at me, my love."

With a sharp in take of breath, Kurt looked up. His eyes searched Blaine's face for a few seconds before they widened in horror. "Oh, God..."

"It's okay," Blaine whispered. "It's okay, Kurt..."

"No, no, it's not," Kurt sniffed. "Is it always going to be like this?"

"You'll get better," Blaine said but he didn't even convince himself. "You just need time."

"And we're going to be right here, all the way," Burt promised. He looked a little shaken up by his son's episode but his voice was as sure as ever.

"I can't live like this..." Kurt sobbed. "It's only been a day and I... I'm losing my mind..."

No, Blaine thought, a shot of panic stabbing his heart

No, they'd get through this.

One way or the other.

They had to.

* * *

_"What are you doing?! Let go of me! HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!" _

_"There's no one here to hear you scream, Mr. Hummel." _

_There had to be. They were at a public subway station, there had to be someone. _

_Anyone. "HELP!" _

_"Hey, what are you doing? Let him go, you..." _

_A gun was fired. Kurt screamed as a man he didn't know fell to the ground with blood gushing out of a wound on his chest. _

_"Now there's no one here to hear you scream," the gorilla of a man holding him sneered. "Come along now Mr. Hummel, before no one else gets hurt." _

_"It's Hummel-Anderson!" Kurt snapped. It was an almost automatic response that he couldn't stop himself from saying. _

_"Right, yes. Hummel-Anderson," the man mocked. He pulled on Kurt's arm to bring him as close as an inch from his face. "It's a good thing you remember you're married. Might motivate you to behave." _

_Kurt swallowed air. "What do you want from me? I don't have any money." _

_"Oh, you'll be worth much more than money," the man said. "Now, you're going to come along nice and quietly, yes? We wouldn't want Blaine to get hurt, would we?" _

_The subway station echoed in the unnatural silence. Kurt stopped struggling._

* * *

Kurt barely slept in the next few weeks. He didn't go outside, either and refused to return any of his friend's calls. He had dark shadows under his eyes and Blaine could already see he was losing weight.

"Kurt," he begged one evening when Kurt was watching the same episode of Project Runway for the 10th time. "Rachel called again. Don't you want to talk to her?"

"And say what?" Kurt asked. "You weren't part of my life for years and years but that was just because I was asleep so welcome back now that I'm awake?"

Blaine sighed, trying not to let Kurt's hostile tone get to him. "She doesn't know anything," he said. "She's worried. Everyone's worried."

"What have you told them?"

"Nothing. And I'm running out of excuses. Please, just give her a call before they start thinking I've killed you and keeping you in a freezer."

"Maybe you should."

Blaine hoped, wished, prayed, he had heard wrong. "What?"

"Nothing. Forget it."

"I will not forget it," Blaine said. "Kurt, I told you! You can talk to me about anything. Please, don't shut me out."

For a couple of seconds it looked like Kurt wanted to argue. But the hard look in his eyes softened just as quickly and it was as if his entire body deflated.

"I'm walking in mist," he murmured. "That's what this all feels like. Nothing seems normal but at the same time it's all a little too normal. And it's still all just so..."

"Gray?" Blaine finished for Kurt, who nodded.

"No gray like... in the spring when the snow melts but nothing's green yet. Just dull. Pointy. Hard," Kurt said. "Ugh, I don't know. I don't know how to explain it."

"That's fine," Blaine said. "I'm just glad you're trying."

"We can't go back to how things were," Kurt stated.

"I know."

"But you can't stay here with me all the time. You have to go back to work."

"My boss understands."

"I'm sure he does but I'm not worried about him," Kurt said. "I'm not ready to go back out there. But I can't keep you trapped here with me. I want you to have a life."

"You are my life," Blaine insisted. "I'm in no hurry to go back to work. Or anywhere. I don't want to leave you here alone."

Kurt smiled a little. "You're so sweet. But I have to learn to manage."

"Kurt, I..."

"Blaine, I love you. I love you so much. And I can see that you're itching to get out of here. I am not going to stop you."

If Blaine was being honest with himself, the four walls they were hiding behind were slowly but surely starting to close in on him. But the idea of leaving Kurt alone for the day terrified him because at that moment he was Kurt's one constant reminder of what was the reality.

"I'll call Rachel," Kurt said to bring Blaine back from his thoughts. "You go to work and I'll call Rachel. Do we have a deal?"

A big part of Blaine wanted to argue further and yet, he found himself nodding slowly. So for the next ten minutes, he listened to Kurt making arrangements to meet Rachel while trying to focus on what his boss was saying.

_"Daniel's been great but we'd love to have you back!"_ Mr. Harris - Ted - told him enthusiastically. _"The girls really miss you."_

"I miss everyone, too," Blaine admitted. ("No, I don't want a big... Just you. Rachel, I mean it.")

_"Well, if you're sure, you're more than welcome to return already tomorrow. But if you want to take a bit more time, we understand."_

"Thanks, Ted, that's... You've been amazing."

Ted hummed at the other end of the line. _"Ah, I know. But it's only because you're my favorite person in this production. And you've got the best looking plus one. Don't tell that to anyone, though."_

Blaine chuckled. "Hands off, old man," he joked.

_"Oh, that husband of yours is so smitten by you he no longer even notices if someone's hitting on him,"_ Ted laughed. _"And I'm not the only that who's tried."_

("Yeah, a dinner sounds good. - Here, maybe? Yeah. Saturday's fine.")

_"In all seriousness, though. How is Kurt doing?"_

Blaine took a deep breath. "He's... he's okay. He's the one telling me to go back to work. That's a... that's a good sign, right?"

_"Definitely."_

"I'll be there on Wednesday, okay? We'll use tomorrow to make sure we're really ready and if you don't hear from me, expect me there at 9 o'clock sharp."

("...yeah, you too. Bye.")

_"Sounds good. I'll see you then."_

"Hopefully."

_"Hey. I haven't known you two for a very long time but I already know that you could move mountains together if you set your mind to it. He'll be fine. You both will."_

"Thanks," Blaine choked out. "I... well. See you soon."

_"See you soon. Bye."_

Blaine hung up with a sigh. His first job in New York as a part-time piano player in a local cafe had turned into an opportunity he hadn't even dreamed of at a time when an off-Broadway producer had happened to stop by for a coffee at the most perfect time. His first role as the leading character's best friend had gotten him a part in as the lead in an off-off Broadway play, a play that had been seen by Ted. Ted was an up-and-coming writer and director and had cast Blaine as the lead of his third play, the production of which had started a few weeks before Kurt had been taken.

"So what did Ted say?"

Blaine looked up to see Kurt in the doorway of the bedroom with his phone still in his hand. Standing there like that - leaning against the frame in a hoodie and pajama pants, his hair free of product - he looked almost casual, had his shoulders not been so tense and his expression still a little guarded. Blaine hated those little signs most of all: a day to day slap in the face by what had been robbed from them.

"I'm going back on Wednesday," he said with a little nod of his head. "That gives us tomorrow to just..." What? "...be."

Kurt nodded, too, wrapping his arms around himself as if he was cold. They stayed like that for a while, Kurt standing in the doorway and Blaine sitting on the edge of the bed. He was just about to get up when Kurt stepped further into the bedroom and climbed onto the bed next to Blaine, snuggling his way closer by bringing his arms around Blaine's waist.

"I'm so proud of you," he mumbled against Blaine's neck.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. So proud. You're on your way."

"To what?"

Kurt moved so that they were face to face. "To everything you ever dreamed of."

Blaine smiled a little sadly. "I wouldn't be on my way anywhere if it weren't for you."

"Oh, hush."

"No, it's true. What I said earlier? It's the truth. You are my life. And I don't know what I would have done if..."

Blaine didn't finish the sentence. It was too horrible to think about.

Kurt's lifted his hands to cup Blaine's cheeks. The two of them just looked at each other for a long moment before Kurt leaned in for a kiss, deeper and less sweet than the ones they had shared over the last few weeks. Blaine responded to it a little more eagerly than what he had dared to so far, letting his tongue enter Kurt's mouth with the ease of years of practice.

Soon Blaine found himself lying on his back under Kurt, their lips moving against each other effortlessly, slowly, quickly, leaving them breathless. Blaine knew it wouldn't go further than this by the way Kurt's hands stayed on his sides, over the shirt, but he was fine with that. Kurt felt so warm and familiar on him, his weight and touch a comforting reminder of how things had been.

And how they would be again. With time.

"Thank you," Kurt whispered between kisses. "Thank you, Blaine. Thank you for everything."

"I love you," was Blaine's reply.

* * *

The man in front of her looked more human in his orange overalls than what he had in that warehouse where they had taken their victims. He was grinning when they checked him for concealed weapons, his yellow teeth making Peterson fight against a shiver.

"You here to offer me a deal, woman?" he asked when he sat down, shackles clinking.

"My name is Hel..."

"I know what your name is, woman," the man spat out. "Do you know mine? Or do you think yourself to be too good to know the names of people like me?"

Peterson narrowed her eyes. "Rick Jenner," she said calmly. "You used to do dream stealing for major co-operates until it was discovered that your so called loyalty went to highest bidder."

"Man's got a keep butter on the braed, sweetheart," Rick stated like he was proud of it.

"Somehow you managed to escape from their radar and started doing dirtier jobs underground for more money."

"Hey, you've done your research. I'm impressed," Rick sneered.

Peterson simply shook her head. "I have," she said. "Which is why I don't get why you kidnapped Kurt Hummel-Anderson. He doesn't fit the profile."

"The fashion world is uglier than you think, Peterson," Rick said. "What you see on the surface is like a picture of a corpse photo-shopped to look like a model." He leaned back on his chair and crossed his hands on his stomach. "Someone paid big money to know about what's going on inside Vogue. I didn't have to know more than the number on the cheque and a name. That name was Kurt Hummel-Anderson."

Years of experience told Peterson that Rick was not telling everything. "You're being awfully open."

"I got caught. They're gonna kill me anyway. Doesn't matter now," Rick said with a shrug.

No one was going to kill this son of a bitch until Peterson got all the answers she needed. She'd taste the food given to him herself if that's what it took.

"So if someone paid you to know about Vogue, why did you put Kurt in a limbo?"

"We fucked up."

"You fucked up?"

"Yup."

"That's it? You fucked up?" Peterson asked, not believing it for a second. "And all the others you put to limbos? You fucked up with them, too."

Rick tilted his head before a look of realization melted on his face. "Peterson! That's right! We got your daughter a while back, didn't we? Lovely girl. So proud to be her own mother's intern. Her dreams were really helpful. Until, of course. We pushed her over the edge."

He said that with no regrets whatsoever.

Peterson squeezed the pen in her hand so tightly her knuckles turned white. "You will not be killed," she said quietly.

"As if you can stop it."

"I can," Peterson said. "I can and I will. As long as I can make you suffer for the things you've done, you're not going to die. You don't deserve such an easy out. None of you do."

"We literally wiped out all the info of every criminal in FBI database with information we got out of your daughter's head while she was asleep. How the hell do you think you're going to stop the others from killing me now that I'm a liability? Me and all the other rats you caught." Rick leaned forward. "And if you ask me, who you should really be chasing are the people who hire me. I just do the dirty work. And believe you me, there will always be someone who can do the dirty work for those who want to keep their hands clean. Like the one who wanted us to mess up with your database."

Peterson stood up. "No visitors allowed besides me," she told the guard who nodded solemnly.

"Say hi to Ella from me!" Rick called after her just as she was about to close the door.

* * *

The rest of the week went by uneventfully. Blaine went back to work, Kurt stayed home. On Wednesday Blaine came back with Chinese to find Kurt curled up on the couch, drawing. There were balled up papers on the floor as well as a few complete designs on the table, piled under a note that said 'to be shown to Isabelle'.

It was the most beautiful sight Blaine had ever witnessed.

On Thursday Kurt told Blaine he had called Mercedes and the two of them had talked for hours, about everything and anything and nothing all at the same time.

And then, on Friday, Blaine met Kurt in front of the local Supermarket. They spent an hour finding the right ingredients for the vegan dish Kurt was planning to make for Rachel's visit.

"She wanted to bring a whole bunch of people," he complained as he picked out the best looking apples. "Like it's a 'welcome home!' party or something."

"Yeah, she called me, too," Blaine replied. "Apparently Santana is back in town. With Brit."

"Don't start," Kurt warned Blaine.

"I'm not. They'll be here for another few weeks. If tomorrow goes well, maybe we can think about it?"

Kurt shrugged. "Yeah. Maybe. Now, where the hell is the broccoli?"

Blaine frowned.

They both hated broccoli.

The next day, Rachel arrived an hour before she had originally told she would. While Kurt cooked, the three of them talked about topics that really had nothing to do with anything but as they sat down to eat, Rachel could no longer pretend she didn't want to know why Kurt had all but 'vanished into thin air'.

"I was kidnapped," Kurt said through a mouthful of broccoli that Blaine had ever-so-subtly pushed aside.

"Very funny."

"I'm not laughing."

Rachel blinked. Blaine looked from Kurt to her and back again and saw that his husband's too cool for school attitude was merely a coping mecanism. He had used the same tactics when he had not gotten into NYADA the first time.

"You - you're serious?" Rachel whispered, shocked. "Oh, my God... Oh my God, Kurt, I... I'm so sorry, I didn't realize... Why didn't you..."

"Tell anyone?" Kurt finished for Rachel who nodded slightly. "Because what really happened is a hell of lot more complicated than a simple kidnapping."

And just like that, Kurt spilled everything. The food on Blaine's plate went cold as he listened to his husband talk about the limbo the way he hadn't so far. He described their house, a white house in the suburbs with a yard that extended into the woods that existed nowhere in New York City. He told them how Aiden would laugh because of smallest of things and how his favorite shoes were ballet shoes and how his daughter's first words had been 'Let it go!' and how she had sung the whole song a week later.

"Do you know what it's like to have something so right and then everything just bursts and it's suddenly all so wrong because nothing in that life was quite correct but at the same time it was because you didn't know it was wrong until you're away from it?"

Blaine's head was spinning.

Kurt talked until there was nothing to tell anymore and the kitchen grew heavy with silence after he was done. Blaine found his hand under the table and squeezed it, earning a grateful look from him.

"That's... I..." Rachel stuttered. She, too, had forgotten about food. "You didn't... Where was I?"

"What?"

"You didn't mention me. Where was I? I must have been there, we've been best friends for years."

Kurt frowned. "You're kidding, right?"

"What do you mean, of course I'm not..."

"You weren't there," Kurt said bluntly to cut her off. "And before you even start, neither was Santana. Or Mercedes. Or even Dad! It was... it was just us," he mumbled, looking at Blaine. "Just us and Aiden. And Anna, also. And... people... Faceless people..." Kurt said as if he was just realizing this fact himself.

"And you didn't realize it was just a dream? Aiden's not even real, how did you...?"

Oh, shit.

Kurt got up so quickly the chair nearly fell over. "Don't ever speak of him again, Rachel Berry. Never."

He left the kitchen without another word.

"Don't," Blaine said when Rachel was about to go after him. "Let him be."

"He just told me everything about Aiden, what does he...?"

"Exactly. He told you everything about him. And you said he wasn't real."

"He's not!"

"But he is. In a way. I know you don't understand, neither do I. But we have to respect it."

Neither one of them finished their food and despite her protests, Blaine nearly pushed Rachel out without letting her see Kurt again. "He'll call you when he's ready," he promised, not knowing if he was telling an outright lie.

He found Kurt in the bedroom, curled up on his side and hugging a pillow.

"You okay?" Blaine asked, kneeling down next to the bed. Kurt shrugged. "Talk to me," Blaine reminded gently, pushing his hand through his husband's hair.

Kurt just shook his head and buried his face deeper into the pillow. "I don't dream anymore," he mumbled miserably.

"Everyone dreams."

"Well, I don't. At least I don't remember any of them," Kurt said. "I used to dream of my mother. I could almost smell her sometimes. And Finn... Now it's like... Like there's nothing to dream about anymore."

"Is that why you're not sleeping?"

"I hate the black. I hate the dark. That's all I see, that's all I remember in the morning," Kurt sobbed out. "I just... I just keep wishing that... at least when I'm sleeping I could..."

"See Aiden?" Blaine finished when Kurt couldn't. He didn't need Kurt's nod of confirmation to know he was right.

Kurt took a shuddering breath as he lowered the pillow a little bit. "Do you want children?" he asked with a small voice.

"You know I do," Blaine replied. And then he asked a question of his own, the answer to which he'd been dreading ever since he had learned of Kurt's dream son. "Do you? Still?"

Kurt bit his lip. "They won't be him."

"No," Blaine said. His stomach turned into a knot. "They won't."

"But they'd be ours."

"Yes."

Kurt smiled just a little. "You would have loved Aiden," he whispered. "He's just like you."

Blaine swallowed a lump in his throat. "Of course I would have loved him," he said quietly. He moved forward to lean his forehead against Kurt's.

They stayed like that, in silence, until the sun started to set and create orange patterns in their bedroom. As Kurt's breathing evened out, Blaine could only wish he'd dream of something nice that would put a smile on his face.

He just wanted Kurt to smile.

To be happy.

Because he wasn't. Kurt wasn't happy and it was becoming painfully obvious.

* * *

_Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you_  
_Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you_  
_But in your dreams whatever they be_  
_Dream a little dream of me_

* * *

**Dream a Little Dream of Me by Gus Kahn **


End file.
